Only in Dreams
by Electryone
Summary: WIKTT Second Person Challenge Response. Severus encounters Hermione stealing from his private stores. One-shot.


Disclaimer: Is it really necessary to even write this? _You_ know I don't own the Harry Potter series and _I_ know that I don't own it. JK Rowling is probably laughing at all of us from her Scottish mansion while house-elves cater to her every need. 

Author's Note: This is in response to the Second Person challenge on WIKTT. Thank you, Tegan, for thinking of such a wonderful challenge idea!

**Only in Dreams**

You couldn't believe your eyes! All of the precautions, the efforts at concealing yourself had been futile. Getting past the many wards of the Potions Master's private store deserved admiration. In addition to detention, expulsion, and every other unpleasant punishment imaginable.

He glared, knowing that you wouldn't get any of those things. He knew that the headmistress would never stand for you, her favorite Gryffindor student-turned-professor, receiving detention. However, he would still make your life miserable.

"Why are you in my personal supplies closet, Granger?" he growled at you, grabbing your wrists. You were aware of his proximity, his touch upon your skin, but tried to ignore it.

After seven years of being a student in his Potions class, and five of teaching with him, you were not surprised by his tone. However, you _were_ shocked that he was not hexing you immediately; nor was he threatening you or hurting you. Even his grip on your arms was soft, and you pulled your hands away easily. Most people thought he was a monster. As for you… well, you still were unsure. You wanted to dislike him, the way that you had for all of those years as a student; he did deserve it, after all. However, it was impossible. For behind the angry expression, you saw something else. He looked tired and upset, as though the events of the past twenty years had taken their toll on him. You became lost in his gaze for a few seconds, your heart pounding, your breathing getting strangely irregular. You lifted up a hand, preparing to brush a stray hair out of his eyes. 

But then you remembered why you were there and what you had been doing.

"Pr-professor…" You tried not to become intimidated—you really did—but it was impossible with the way those dark eyes were fixated on your face. You secretly wished that he would stop looking at you. His face had been haunting your dreams, and this moment was reminiscent of those disconcerting hours that you spent asleep. "Professor Snape, I need to make a potion." 

He sneered at you, annoyed that you were informing of the obvious rather than telling him which potion it was or who it was for. You didn't want to tell him that your best friend's feelings for you had gotten in the way of your friendship, and that the only solution was to brew an antidote. You knew it was a bad idea, that using emotion-altering potions in general was against all of your morals, and the chance of the potion actually having any effect was slim, but you were desperate. You wanted things to be the way they had been ten years earlier. You're the type of woman who works hard even when all hope is gone. You knew and that your friendship was probably done for, yet you still clung to the unlikely possibility that your concoction would defy all odds. It was stupid, really. You were nothing but a stupid Gryffindor girl.

"Miss Granger, I wonder why you decided to sneak into my private storage to steal from me, rather than asking me for the ingredients. You _are_ the Transfiguration professor now, not some first-year student. Am I really that horrible that you go to such great lengths to avoid interaction with me?" He said this with a sneer, although you were aware that it was a halfhearted attempt at one. Did he actually care what you thought of him? Of course not, you told yourself, he doesn't care about anyone or anything except for himself. He doesn't, not at all. _Not at all._

_Or did he?_

You wished that you could delve deeper into his thoughts. He had always been a mystery to you—an unsolvable one at that. Yet for some reason, you wanted to know more. You knew that he was one of the most intelligent men in all of Britain, that his potion-making skills were incomparable, but that wasn't enough. You wished that he would confide in you, that he give you the privilege that he gave to nobody else. But that would never happen. You knew that you only didn't ask him for the ingredients because you were afraid of him. At times like that, you wondered why you had been sorted into Gryffindor, since your courage was obviously lacking.

"_Miss Granger_, I am still waiting for you to tell me why you are stealing from me," he said in an irritated voice.  You cringed. After being a Hogwarts professor for five years, you had always wished for him to call you 'Hermione', but you were still 'Miss Granger' or on rare occasions, 'Professor Granger'.

You tried to match his smirking expression, although you knew that his ability to sneer far surpassed yours. "I'm sorry, sir, but I think it would be evident that it is a secret." You then turned, ready to storm out of the room with the bag full of ingredients that you needed. However, he was too quick for you.

His hand closed around your arm once again, electricity surging through your body. As he positioned himself in front of you, blocking the exit, you realized that his body was practically touching yours, too near for comfort. You wished that he would stay this close to you always, although were embarrassed that you are actually thinking such outrageous thoughts about the man you just got caught stealing from. His gesture had _not been a romantic one, but your heart still responded to it nonetheless. Your face turned red, and you were blushing like a schoolgirl. _

"Well, Miss Granger?" he said to you in that voice of his, smooth and silky enough to make you melt. In your dreams, that same voice had whispered words of love and affection. His intense gaze focused on you once again. "I have all day. Or would you rather that I force you to drink Veritaserum?" 

You frowned. Why did he have to be so condescending? "Professor, I'm not one of your first-year students, so please stop treating me like I am."

"Then stop acting like one!" he hissed at you. In one swift motion, he the bag in your hand away from you and looked inside. "Miss Granger, if I'm not mistaken, these are the exact supplies needed to make a love potion." You turned your eyes away, knowing that anything of the sort was illegal. "Who would have thought that the little Gryffindor know-it-all needed to use a potion to find a partner?! Let me guess… Weasley?"

You gritted your teeth, angry at his insult. "I assure you, sir, it is quite the opposite." You sighed, knowing that he would not let you go until you told him. "They're also the ingredients of the remedy for desire. Which you _should_ know, since you're the Potions Master here."  

"Of course I am aware of that, Miss Granger," he told you furiously. You nearly smiled at the change in his usually cool demeanor. 

However, he reverted back to his normal self in a matter of seconds. "You _do_ realize that potions of this nature are highly unlawful, Miss Granger?" he said, sounding like the know-it-all that he always accused you of being. You scowled. "Not only that, but it is probable that the potion will be ineffective, unless his feelings for you are those of mere lust. And I find it hard to believe that any man who has met you would only want to use you to satisfy his physical needs." 

You stared at him for several seconds, wondering if this was some backhanded attempt at an insult. Then you realized that it was actually an indirect compliment, which caused the blood to rush to your face all over again. You hated this feeling and began to wish that you had actually listened to Lavender and Parvati in all of those conversations where they analyzed the words of the objects of their affections. But your romantic inexperience gave you no knowledge of the sort. Rather than snapping back at him with a witty comment or something of the sort, you looked at your ex-Potions professor speechlessly. You knew that all of your emotions were mirrored on your face; stoicism had never been your strong point, after all. 

The irate expression on his face softened. His unwavering gaze still on yours was quite disconcerting. You just wanted to leave the room, forget about the potion, and forget about Professor Snape. However, he was still blocking the door. You tried to put some space in between the two of you, only to back into one of the many shelves in the room. Vaguely, you began realizing that you had seen his expression before; it was the same one that had been appearing in your dreams for the past few years, the one that you had always savored. It was almost full of tenderness. The odd part was that this wasn't a dream. As you began comprehending that undeniable fact, you started to get more confused. 

"Professor Snape?" you questioned in a quiet voice. 

He responded in a different tone than he had been using earlier. "Please, Hermione, we've been colleagues for five years. At least call me Severus." 

"Severus," you whispered, the name feeling silky on your tongue. In any other situation, you would be pointing out that you were only so formal because he refused to refer to you as anything but your last name. However, you didn't want to spoil whatever it was that was pulling you closer to him. Your fingers, seeming to have a mind of their own, reached up to explore the contours of his face. You expected him to pull away, which would have been unbearable, but not unlikely. However, he leaned into your touch and enclosed his rough hand around yours. You were surprised by this gesture of affection, and your shock intensified when he leaned forward to kiss you.

His lips were unexpectedly soft compared to the coarseness of his skin, and his body melded nicely against yours as he pulled you closer. You kissed him back, of course, amazed that it wasn't anything like it had been in your dreams. This was much better.

The kiss ended as quickly as it had begun. "Severus?" you asked. Your voice was lower than normal. It was obvious that you were hungry for more. Was he? That unreadable smirk was back on his face. Damn him. 

"Hermione, you do realize that I've been in love with you for the past five years, don't you?" He had waited five years to act on his feelings for you? _Five years? _

"No, I was unaware of it. Every time I tried to speak to you, you snapped at me," you said snidely, even though you felt secretly ecstatic.

"Damn it, Hermione, you know I have no experience with this type of thing!" His tone wasn't one of anger, it was more of embarrassment. You relished it. It was enjoyable for you to see the Potions Master self-conscious about something. This was a rare moment and nothing like it would probably ever happen again. 

After a few moments of silence, you finally spoke. "I've been in love with you for quite some time also."

Then something happened that you had never seen before, not at all during the twelve years you had known the man. It had only occurred in your dreams. He smiled.

And you smiled back. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you would have to deal with Ron's feelings for you at some point, in addition to the disapproval of your friends, all of whom disliked Severus. Your future with him would hold many obstacles; however, they would be easy to overcome since you had reached this point. That wasn't important now. Right now the only thing that mattered was Severus and his smile as he pulled you into his arms.


End file.
